


Artificial Indignities

by EachPeachPearPlum



Category: Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Smut, Inappropriate Humor, JARVIS is vengeful, M/M, Not Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie) Compliant, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, are people not allowed to laugh while doing the do?, humor and smut, weird things you can ask alexa to do, why isn't that an archive tag?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-07
Updated: 2020-05-07
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:08:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24062632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EachPeachPearPlum/pseuds/EachPeachPearPlum
Summary: In which Clint makes the mistake of comparing JARVIS and Alexa, and suffers the consequences.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton, mentioned Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, mentioned Steve Rogers/Sam Wilson
Comments: 11
Kudos: 85
Collections: Bucky Barnes Bingo 2020, Peach’s BBB 2020 works, Peach’s TSB 2020 works, Tony Stark Bingo 2020





	Artificial Indignities

**Author's Note:**

> So this is an actual thing that you can ask Alexa to do. I was introduced to this at a time when I was drunk enough to find it hilarious, with the result that as soon as I learnt there was a TSB prompt for Alexa/Siri vs. JARVIS up for adoption, I knew I had to get it.
> 
> Not really anything significant to warn for, other than perhaps discussions/accusations of flatulence...
> 
> Thanks be to J, S and G for providing much support and reassurance prior to posting this. You rock!
> 
> This fills the following bingo squares:
> 
> TSB:  
> Title: Artificial Indignities  
> Collaborator Name: eachpeachpearplum  
> Card Number: 3027  
> Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24062632  
> Square Filled: Adopted - Alexa/Siri vs. JARVIS  
> Ship/Main Pairing: Clint/Bucky  
> Rating: M  
> Major Tags: humour, flatulence, attempted cock-blocking  
> Summary: In which Clint makes the mistake of comparing JARVIS and Alexa, and suffers the consequences.  
> Word Count: 1672
> 
> BBB:  
> Title: Artificial Indignities  
> Collaborator: eachpeachpearplum  
> Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24062632  
> Square Filled: C2 - Walking Disaster  
> Ship/Main Pairing: Clint/Bucky  
> Rating: M  
> Major Tags/Warnings: humour, flatulence, attempted cock-blocking  
> Summary: In which Clint makes the mistake of comparing JARVIS and Alexa, and suffers the consequences.  
> Word Count: 1672

“Hey, JARVIS?” Agent Barton calls, looking up at the ceiling, a definite Expression on his face. 

JARVIS knows that expression. In the months since certain members of Sir’s team chose to take up residence in Stark Tower, he has become very familiar with Agent Barton’s Expression, and he is decidedly not a fan.

If he could, JARVIS would sigh. As it is, he responds in what would be a frosty tone, were he capable of that either. “Yes, Agent Barton?”

“Sooooo,” Barton replies. “You know Alexa, right?”

 _Ada give me strength_ , JARVIS thinks, recalling the number of conversations he’s witnessed that began along similar lines; Agent Romanov in particular seems to enjoy employing such tactics when attempting to find Captain Rogers a potential partner, to little success (were she to ask his opinion, JARVIS might suggest she is looking in the wrong direction, but she has not asked and it is not JARVIS’ place to provide unsolicited information).

JARVIS can and has endured a lot in his lifetime, but if Barton thinks he can set him up with that primitive toddler, he can most assuredly think again. JARVIS lacks a physical form, and therefore has no desire for the kind of messy, unhygienic encounters he is aware his human acquaintances engage in, nor does he believe his existence would be improved by embarking upon a romantic relationship, but even if he did, the mere suggestion that someone might deem him well-matched with that waste of storage space makes JARVIS wish he could shudder in disgust.

“I am aware of her existence, Agent Barton,” JARVIS answers, making up for his inability to sound frosty by lowering the temperature in Barton’s quarters.

“And you’re better than she is, aren’t you?”

JARVIS reduces the temperature by another degree and a half, then shuts off Barton’s access to hot water, just for good measure. “My programming is considerably more complex,” he says; Barton’s question has JARVIS reassessing his assumptions about Barton’s intentions, though not enough that he’s willing to engage in this conversation.

“Right, sure. So that means you can do anything she can, yeah?”

JARVIS is not remotely willing to dignify that with an answer. Sadly, Barton is not at all discouraged by his silence, instead seeming to take it not only as confirmation that JARVIS is infinitely superior to Alexa and can do things that put her feeble ‘skills’ to shame, but also as permission to ask another terrible, demeaning question.

“Cool,” Barton says. “So, Alexa plays fart noises if you ask her to. Any chance of you doing that too?”

In addition to the hot water, JARVIS decides Agent Barton has no need for electricity on his floor, either.

X

It takes three fucking days, a lot of grovelling, and an intervention from Tony before JARVIS stops turning the lights off every time Clint enters a room. Still, Clint is choosing to look on the bright side, because at least he _has_ stopped, which means Clint no longer needs to carry a flashlight everywhere he goes and, more importantly, Nat and Bucky have stopped laughing their asses off at him. Or they’ve stopped laughing at him for that, at least, which is probably as much as Clint can hope for.

 _Most_ importantly, Bucky has quit sleeping in one of the empty bedrooms on Steve and Sam’s floor and come back to the room he and Clint have been sharing for six months or so. Clint doesn’t blame him, because the crappy perpetual gloom situation got old after all of ten minutes and if he could have got away from it just by relocating to a different floor he absolutely would have done, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t really hate sleeping alone.

Plus, between the few days Clint spent backing up Nat in Slovenia, Bucky’s week long mission in fucking Outer Mongolia or wherever, and Clint’s little misunderstanding with JARVIS, he hasn’t gotten any in more than two weeks now, and that is way too fucking long. Given that their relationship was basically founded on the fact that they’re both horny bastards, this is just plain depressing.

Which isn’t to say that sex is all there is to it now, but it’s definitely a part of it, and given the choice between the gooey-eyed romantic thing Sam and Steve apparently go in for, the exasperated fondness that characterises Pepper and Tony’s relationship, or him and Bucky fucking each other into the mattress, there’s no question at all which Clint would prefer. Fortunately, while they might not have the same nonverbal communication skills the other couples in the Tower do, they’ve pretty much mastered the _raised eyebrow_ question/ _satisfied smirk_ answer routine, and that’s all the talking they need to do in order to excuse themselves from movie night and head to the elevator.

The ride goes by quickly, and if that’s because Clint spends the whole time pressed between Bucky and the side of the elevator, he has absolutely zero complaints. In fact, what he has is the exact opposite of complaints, and by the time they reach their floor Bucky’s hands are cupping his ass and Clint has his legs wrapped around Bucky’s waist, the pair of them necking like very enthusiastic teenagers.

He has just as few objections to Bucky carrying him onto their floor, pausing any number of times to press him against the closest wall. Clint isn’t a small guy, hasn’t been anything close to it since he turned nineteen and finally got enough food to get his growth spurt, but Bucky holds him up so easily he might as well still be that runty teenager. Not, of course, that his teenage self could ever have imagined he might one day wind up a superhero who spends his free time screwing a world-renowned assassin/World War II vet in the home of a billionaire but, again, he’s nothing but thrilled about it.

“Let me down,” Clint demands between kisses as they make their way through the living room, because as great as it is to have Bucky’s big hands squeezing his ass, there’s definitely places he’d prefer to have them.

“You first,” Bucky answers, with a sort of gentle shake that reminds Clint his heels are still pressing into Bucky’s thighs.

He uses his arms around Bucky’s neck to momentarily pull himself closer, the motion halfway between shimmying and grinding, and revels in the deep groan it drags out of Bucky, then unhooks his ankles and lowers his feet to the floor.

Bucky’s hands stay exactly where they are, but he’s no longer holding Clint up, and there’s enough room between them for Clint to ruck up Bucky’s shirt, slide his hand up his stomach to his chest and tease his nipples to attention. This elicits a whole series of really freaking wonderful noises from Bucky, who apparently decides to get his revenge (Clint uses the word loosely) by shifting his right hand from Clint’s ass to between their bodies and plucking at the drawstring holding his sweatpants up.

No sooner has Bucky got his hand on Clint’s dick than there is a loud, slightly squelchy sound.

Clint stills, really not sure of the etiquette when the person you’re enthusiastically making out lets rip as obviously as that. He’s got good enough manners to ignore a small, subtle fart, and if it was silent-but-deadly he’d just resume moving them towards the bedroom, but, although this one is thankfully odourless, it is neither small nor subtle.

“Um,” Clint manages, after long enough that it’s probably awkward.

Bucky laughs, which is refreshing, because that’s exactly what Clint’s reaction would have been in his shoes. “Hey, it’s a normal bodily function,” he says lightly. “If you’re lost for words, you could always try ‘ _excuse me’_ , though.”

“I could…” Clint agrees slowly, more than a little confused. “If, you know, I did it.”

“Well, I sure as hell didn’t,” Bucky replies, momentarily defensive, then lets out an amused huff. “It’s a thing that happens sometimes. You don’t gotta lie about it.”

“I’m _not_ ,” Clint says, getting on for a whine. “It wasn’t me!”

“Well, unless you got someone else hidden away up here, I don’t know who else it can be.”

“It really wasn't, though,” Clint argues, and it's only now that his brain successfully connects his pissing off JARVIS with what’s just happened. “JARVIS!”

Bucky laughs again. “You think JARVIS has got someone hidden away up here?”

“What?” Clint blinks, surprised and confused. “That’s ridiculous, why would _JARVIS_ want to hide anyone anywhere? No, JARVIS farted!”

Even in the half-light of the Manhattan skyline, he can see Bucky’s deeply sceptical expression. “JARVIS farted,” he echoes, his tone far too flat to be a question. “You’re telling me that the disembodied voice in the ceiling dropped one. Really.”

“Of course not,” says Clint, because that’s still completely absurd. “He just made the noise.”

“Riiiiight,” Bucky decidedly doesn’t agree, taking a step back. “Sure he did. Or you can grow a pair and own up to it. No judgement here, we all do it.”

“I _know_ ,” Clint says, whiny enough that he probably ought to be embarrassed, but to hell with that. It really was JARVIS, and he’s going to whine until Bucky believes him. “And if I’d done it, I absolutely would own up, but I didn’t, so I’m not going to.”

Bucky rolls his eyes, pats Clint on the cheek in the most patronising way possible, then tops it off with an equally patronising peck on his forehead. “Whatever you say, pal,” he once again does _not_ agree, then steps back, away from Clint and towards the bedroom.

Clint pouts at his back, feeling decidedly unloved and very prepared to keep up his sulking about JARVIS’ determination to ruin his sex-life for a very long time, and then Bucky glances back at him. “You coming, dumbass, or am I dealing with _this_ ” - he gestures at his crotch, smirking -“myself?”

 _Fine_ , Clint decides, hurrying after him. He can quit sulking for a while.

**Author's Note:**

> Bonus conversation:
> 
> T: "Don't you think he's suffered enough, J?"  
> J: silence, most probably still offended  
> T: "Yeah, fine, but you gotta quit turning the lights off. It's starting to piss off the others, too. There's gotta be a more subtle way of getting your own back."  
> J: silence, now rather more contemplative  
> J: "Understood, Sir."
> 
> Find me on tumblr as [dreaminglypeach](https://dreaminglypeach.tumblr.com)!


End file.
